Every corner of Miyako was decorated. There was no sadness, no desperation, and the air was thick with rich scents of incense, the clouds of smoke lingering around my head like a halo. Hiroyuki-san used a walking stick and moved like mud sliding down a hillside, slow and unevenly. The top of his head reached only my chest, his spine curved into a hunch. I imagined as my eyes followed him from a pace behind, that I might be looking into my future, should I live to be as wise as he. His body had been used, like mine, but perhaps in a different way.
The old man was close to the earth in his stature, I reasoned that it was the only reason he could lower himself enough to be seated on the floor cushions in the tea house. I stole glances around me, two tables to my right, two to my left, two each to my front and back, occupied by well dressed patrons and their accompanying Geisha. I had never seen so many patterns of kimono silk from the edges of my eyes, so many colours that were not from the earth. The sunlight streamed in through the paper screens, the open doors and shutters, dancing before me among the shine of the glossed wood. The daylight was a new world to me still, the warmth from the sun still a surprise as it kissed my skin with generosity.
A Maiko followed by her Geisha sister hurriedly approached the table, kneeling expertly with a tuck of the kimono under their knees. I lowered my head to them in a bow, on instinct, as they produced a teapot and cups, clattering onto the surface. I watched the Maiko's face as she lost control of her expression, and her movements. I could see her grace drain from her as the tea was poured. But I could take no more.
She placed the teapot slowly onto the table top, painfully slowly, attempting not to repeat her first clumsy attempt. My hand like an arrow landed atop hers, my fingers curling around her small wrist, acting without my mind. Acting with all the strength it took to hold back my rage at such an amateur and disrespectful display of service. A slight jolt, my refusal to back down, her eyes fearful as she looked to my face with question, the rest of her still like she was my prey. Her sister began to move to interject, and I raised my hand to her. "There is no need to hurry." I could smell the fear permeating from the two, though I was adorned in a shrine keeper's kimono, I had caused disruption, and instantly I could not be trusted. I reached to Hiroyuki-san's cup across the table, sliding it without effort or sound toward me, and held out my free hand to the Maiko, a gesture to ask for hers. She hesitantly reached her hand toward my open palm, shaking as she placed just the tips of her fingers onto my skin. I guided her hand, gripping her fingers together neatly, to the lid of the teapot. Pressing my fingers into hers to indicate she should follow my lead, I cupped the bottom of the teapot to lift it and used the grip I had on her wrist to make her my doll. I poured the tea into Hiroyuki-san's cup smoothly, the stream flowing a rich green colour, and slid the cup back across the table. With the hold still on the Maiko's wrist, I lifted the sleeve away from her skin, and brought it to my lips to place a deliberate kiss upon it.
Without another word, the Maiko rose and hurried away into the depths of the teahouse, disappearing from my view into the shadows where the sun couldn't reach. I watched her go for as long as I could, fighting a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. When I returned my attention to Hiroyuki-san, he was fully smiling. I cast my eyes downward to the table.
"A marvellous display of your talent."
"Did you know?"
"Of course I knew. I am old, and I know a great deal about the world and how to see it. I simply see you, from the moment you arrived at my shop with Death."
My elbow atop the table gave support to lean forward, sharing a secret, engulfing the old man in my mastery of seduction. I wanted answers, and I was prepared to extract them. "His name is Sugai. He is not Death, he is merely a Kitsune."
"I know who he is. And I know what he is to you." He was insulted, almost spitting the words at me.
"Why call him Death?"
He met my forward motion into the centre line of the table, a natural resting position given the curve of his spine. "Miyako will save you. You travelled far, but not on a whim. In Miyako, you will become the legend Edo never saw you for."
"Are you suggesting I become a Geisha again?"
Our eyes met for a drawn out moment. I steeled mine so he would not see into them, a practice that had become a habit while sharing space and time with Mori, who could read every thought through my gaze. His eyes spoke volumes. He wanted me to see. "You have paid your way already. Nothing more. Continue to love. Then, when you become old like me, say the word to him to allow him to take you to the other side. No sooner than when you become old like me."
I grew tired of my attempts to extract information from the man. Every question he gave an answer to created another question, and was an expert at offering only just enough. I had no understanding of his reason for bringing me to the teahouse, for observing my actions, and I didn't understand how, unless he was so close to death, he knew anything about who Sugai was to me. The only thing I understood more of was how little I really knew this man, his life, and his history. "Hiroyuki-san, I am very tired."
"What I am suggesting, is with your ability to train young Maiko, and my knowledge of the tea, you and I would make an indestructible pair in Miyako. I don't have much time left in this world. I have no children. Tea is important to us." His body relaxed into the cushion, and like a vacuum I felt the entire aura around him sink. He was satisfied with his offer, content in the simplicity of sitting in the sunlight bouncing around the lacquered wood, his cup warming his hands, with me as his company.
My mind returned to Edo. I could see it clearly, as if watching above my own body, as I walked through the flames and smoke, the blackness engulfing every step I took. I held my breath, excitement building in me, even still, with the sheer memory of it. My little corner of Edo, in ashes, the sky painted with the orange and red of the fire that would stain for a long while. "My experience is useless, I'm afraid. I would never train a Maiko to become the Geisha that I was."
What a contrast we were, I thought. In my head, there was fire. Fire, in metaphor and in reality. A host of demons, each awaiting their turn to claw their way from eyes. In his head, there was peace, contentment. He exuded it, and everything he touched or drew breath upon slowed for a moment. "You'll think on it."
The night was deep as it fell around me, and I walked slowly into the mountains from the town. My mind was loud with thoughts, but with nothing relevant. It seemed that I had been placed in a position of power, with many options at my feet, and my life was free to be lived the way I chose. I was suddenly unconcerned with every other being or what they each wanted, what they each requested of me. I was once again wanted, but unlike the way I had been wanted in Edo, I had become the hunter, and the prey would do my bidding now. For the first time, I saw the sky clearly. I saw each star begin to shine, casting down while light upon my path.